Next To Me
by Zander1210
Summary: Beckett's a badass detective, for crying out loud! She doesn't need the men in her life acting as if they were Superman, dropping everything they were doing, and take care of the head cold-infested woman. She could do it herself, but Castle, Esposito, and Ryan think otherwise. (Pairings: Caskett and the bromance between Espo and Ryan.)
1. Fire Burning

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Okay, I'm not going to lie, but I'm officially obsessed with ABC's Castle. I have already watched season one, which hooked me into the entire series, and now I'm in the middle of season two. Of course, I already know that Beckett and Castle are getting married because I was watching some previous season six episodes On Demand. Life is good, right now... **

**Summary: Beckett's a badass detective, for crying out loud! She doesn't need the men in her life acting as if they were Superman, dropping everything they were doing, and take care of the headcold-infested woman. She could do it herself, but Castle, Esposito, and Ryan think otherwise. **

***All credit towards the characters goes to ABC and the extraordinary creators of Castle.* **

**Maybe watching Castle will take my mind off the agony of waiting for Once Upon a Time to air... **

**My love goes out to you, **

**Zander1210**

* * *

"Who was murdered and was it gruesome," Castle asked, picking up his smart phone from the edge of the bedside table. It was six o'clock in the morning, the sun barely peeking its rays into the wispy curtains blocking out the New York skyline and into the bedroom, the apartment an eerie silence. Castle, sprawled on his shared body, ignored the first few insisted vibrations from his phone, until it mockingly grew louder, pushing him to answer the dreaded call.

Beside him, Beckett groaned and coughed into the warm covers of the bed surrounding her. It had been a restless night for her, tossing and turning, coughing and sneezing, all the while battling a painful headache. The last thing she wanted to do was escape from Castle's loving grip and scurry the alley way's of New York, braving the sight of another murder.

Castle gave his finance a curious look, as Beckett buried the ivory pillow over her face. Esposito's voice dragged the writer out of his thoughts, saying, "Get down to fourteenth street in Manhattan. I'll tell you the rest when you get here. And let's just say it's not pretty,"

"Murders never are," Castle replied with a smile, ending the call and shimmying back down into the covers. It took all his strength to climb out of bed, wanting to bask in the warm heat radiating from the crisp sheets, take his fiance into his arms and kiss her plump lips again and again. Pulling back the sheets carefully, Castle stepped onto the hardwood floor, grabbing a pair of his jeans from the armchair next to the bedside table.

Climbing into them, he buckled the notch on his belt and dug around his drawers for a button down shirt. Meanwhile, Beckett sat up in the bed and watched her lover dress, her love for him growing with each passing minute. Breaking her out of the bubble she had made around herself, Beckett began to cough with a loud rasp, flem building up in her throat.

Castle turned around to face Beckett. "That cough doesn't sound too good," he mused, tucking in his shirt and trailing over towards the bed. Placing the back of his hand against her forehead, Castle felt his hand immediately tense up, the warmth from her skin enough to drive shivers down his back. Beckett untangled herself from Castle's protective instincts, annoyed and tired.

"I'm fine," Beckett replied, pushing back the covers from the bed. Castle, stood up, his arms crossed over his chest. The detective rolled her eyes, biting back a smile as her lover changed from a five year old on a sugar high into a serious, concerned man. "Castle, seriously, I'm fine. It's just a little head cold. I can handle it,"

Castle knew not to push, though he was immensely worried about Beckett. Her cough, as raspy as it sounded, struck him to relate it to a dogbark- loud and warning prone, yet her constant sneezing and runny nose reminded him all too well of the cold he had suffered a few weeks back. It was possible, he figured, that Kate had caught what he had had. Placing his hand back against her forehead, Castle registered that his lover had a fever, even if he didn't know the exact temperature.

Beckett reached for her clothes, hanging off of another armchair next to the second bedside table. "Really, babe, I'm fine," she insisted, throwing a green cable knit sweater over her head. The color of their shirts matching, Castle wore a simple forest green button down with even darker green buttons, while Beckett's lighter green sweater complimented what her fiance wore.

"I know, but you're burning up," Castle repeated with logic. "Can you just, please, take your temperature,"

Beckett pulled on her skinny jeans, buttoned them and shoved her feet into black wedge boots. "All right, get the thermometer," she gave in.

Castle's eyes lit up, the five year old attitude rearing its head. "I'll be right back," he announced, sliding along the polished floor towards the bathroom. Beckett smiled in spite of herself, though it was quickly replaced with a frown as she sneezed into her elbow, her brown eye watery. Standing up straight, the detective wiped her eyes and sloppily tied her hair back into a messy bun. "Here you go," Castle said, skidding across the floor and handing the thermometer to Beckett.

"Thanks," she murmured, stuffing the tool under her tongue, waiting impatiently for it to ding. At times, Beckett grew utterly impatient, wanting to know her temperature with ample curiosity, and crossed her eyes to spy the number. Castle grinned and watched fondly. The thermometer beeped, and before Castle could sweep the tool from under Beckett's mouth, the detective grasped it firmly and read the numbers. "One-hundred point one," Beckett mumbled. "I'm still going to the murder sight," she added firmly.

"Kate-..." Castle began to cut in, now serious and affirmative.

But Beckett was not going to let her lover cut into her own self assurance. "Babe, I can take care of myself. Trust me, I've fought worse cold's and fever's before," she reassured.

Castle took Beckett's hand in his and pulled her close. "All right, we'll go, but if you get a higher temperature because you were outside in the cold, I'm going to hold this against you," Beckett smiled, truly and sincerely, feeling content in her lover's arms. As they stared into each other's eyes, the world seemed to disappear, everything that didn't feel right was suddenly gone and vanished to oblivion. Just as soon as the sparked moment came, it went, and Beckett bent over, sneezing into her elbow.

* * *

"Glad you could finally make it," Esposito joked, greeting Beckett and Castle as they arrived on the murder scene. Bundled up in her leather jacket and infinity scarf, Beckett held hands with her lover, squeezing it in hopes of calming his nerves towards her cold. Every few minutes, Castle glanced over at Beckett, spying her glossy eyes and hearing her throat clear. "Anyways- Peter Kay, thirty five years old, visiting New York on business. Witnesses that were around the killing say that they say a man with a ski mask on grabbed Kay and pulled him into an alley way," Esposito began to explain, reading from his murder file. "Everything was quiet for a few minutes until the man with the ski mask sprinted from the alley way. One witness -Alisha Duke- ran towards the alley way and found our victim with some serious stab wounds,"

Beckett glanced over at the taped off area. "Where," she asked, hiding a cough by ducking her mouth under the wool material of her scarf.

Esposito led the lover's towards the murder scene. "One on the forehead," he called over his shoulder. "Another one near his chest, and get this- the last almost directly into his _eye_," Holding up the police tap, Esposito motioned for the detective and Castle to enter the stabbing area.

On the ground before them lay a man, his face pale with the striking color of blood dried into his skin. The white shirt he had been wearing was wrinkled and caressed, as if he had been punched before he had been stabbed. The chest wound was large, yet most of the blood was driven into the white material. His eyes were wide, one lazy and rimming with blood, his lips opened in a scream.

"Cool," Castle breathed with a smile. "This is defiantly my kind of murder,"

Beckett bent low towards the victim, studying his face. Around Kay, people were gathered taking pictures for the press, while Lainie tried her best to shoo them away and focus on examining the man. Glancing up at Esposito, the detective asked, "Do you have his wallet, personal belongings- anything,"

Esposito fished out a black wallet and handed it towards Beckett, his eyebrows crinkling together as she coughed her dogbark cough into her arm. "You okay, Kate," he questioned, looking over towards his fellow partner and then towards Lainie.

"Fine," she answered, shuffling through the wallet. "It says here his address is listed in Boston, and we know Kay was visiting New York on business," Esposito shrugged and took the extended wallet back into his hands. "Espo, contact next of kin and inform them about Kay. Ask them why he was in the city and see what they know. Castle and I will meet you back at the Precinct,"

"On it," Esposito informed, walking back towards Ryan, gathered around Alisha Duke, and began to clue him about their inevitable assignments.

* * *

Back at the Precinct, Kate greedily wrapped her hands around a mug of coffee, delivered happily by Castle. The dark liquid was soothing on her sore throat, and the stream emerging from the top did wonders for her stuffy nose, now enacted from the cold weather that hit her face like a brick wall. Coughing loudly into her arm, Beckett had yet to notice Lainie enter the main floor of the Precinct with a white thermometer in her hand. "Here," she commanded, placing the thermometer on Beckett's blotter. "Take your temperature,"

Castle, his eye brows wrinkled together, began to question. "How do you-..."

"Javier," Lainie answered, her eyes glued on Kate. With a sigh, Beckett reached for the thermometer and placed it under her tongue. Castle and Lainie impatiently tapped their feet on the white tile floor, urging the medical tool to quickly beep. Beckett, the thermometer sticking from her mouth, kept her gaze on the steam wafting up from the mug of coffee. After a few more agonizing minutes, the thermometer beeped and Lainie grabbed it before Kate could paw it out of he mouth.

Castle peeked his head, trying to see the numbers of his lover's fever. Beckett sipped her coffee, though her pounding headache, now stronger than ever, beat wildly against her skull. With a sneeze and a cough, Kate asked Lainie "Well, what's it say,"

Ignoring her best friend, the medical examiner turned towards Castle, slapped him in his cheek painfully, and handed the thermometer to the writer. "What the hell is wrong with you?! She's not supposed to be outside with that high of a fever," Lainie chided, her voice a mixture of worry and anger.

"One hundred and one point three," Castle murmured, off in his own world. Regaining his composure, the writer looked up towards Lainie and defended, "She was only one hundred point one this morning and she insisted on coming into work,"

As if Kate wasn't there, coughing up a storm, shivering in her own warm sweater, Lainey growled at Castle, "One hundred point one?! Holy shit, Castle! You should have kept Kate home regardless if she said so or not! What is wrong with you,"

Kate smirked, and replied, "Oh, so many things," before launching into another coughing fit.

Remembering that she was still in the room, Lainie whipped to face her best friend and hissed, "Don't you dare say anything else, Katherine Beckett. This is also _your_ fault! If you weren't so stubborn you would have admitted to being sick and stayed home,"

Without another word, Castle stood up from the chair next to Beckett's desk and extended his hand for his lover to take. "Come on, Kate. We gotta get you home before Lainie's head blows off," Helping the weary detective up from her chair, Castle guiltily gave Lainie a wave and led Beckett towards the elevator.


	2. The Three Musketeers

**A/N: Hi, all! How are you liking season six of Castle? Of course I'm skipping ahead and watching it, while near the beginning of season three. The budding romance between Castle and Beckett is so pure and rich, making me smile every time I see them together. Is Stana Katic and Nathan Fillion dating in reality? **

**Anyways, I want to thank every reader who favorited, followed, and reviewed for my story. It really means the world to me, and I couldn't do this without your continued supported. **

**My love goes out to you, **

**Zander1210**

* * *

Kate Beckett wouldn't let herself depend on someone, even if his grip was tight as steel.

Upon arriving home to the loft a few minutes after journeying through the streets of New York within the confines of a taxi cab, Kate grew sleepy, loosing her balance the moment she stepped into the lobby of Castle's loft building. But, as quickly as she felt sleep overturn her body, Beckett scared it off, shaking her head in disgust as she regained her footing, while coughing her raspy cough into her elbow.

Her throat burning, eyes drifting to a close, muscles relaxing, and a wincing headache, Beckett knew that allowing Castle to help her steadily enter the elevator and loft space would make herself vulnerable and exposed, a concept that she wasn't quite immune to and much less didn't want to begin to feel. Beckett knew how to take care of herself, to soothe her fever, weaken her pounding headache, lessen and treat her cough and stuffy nose, not needing her fiancee to suddenly kick into Superman mode and save the day.

"Tylenol," Beckett murmured, shifting from foot to foot as Castle dug out his keys for the loft. "Goddamn it, Castle, I need the Tylenol." Though she felt as if she had been hit by a bus, Beckett's personality stayed in tack, her usual sassy, yet humorous, self breaking through the otherwise cloudy surface.

Castle smiled in spite of himself, and turned the key in the lock. "I know, babe." he replied softly, kicking open the door for Beckett as she dragged her feet through the threshold and idly trailed towards the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. "It should be next to the Airborn." Castle called over his shoulder, raising the heat thermostat and flicking on the lights in the living room.

Once laying her clammy hands on the medicine bottle, Beckett dug it out and opened the bight blue cap. Knowing where everything was placed ever-so-neatly inside the shelves of cabinets above the stove and oven, she found a white mug and set it down next to the bottle of Tylenol, its contents waiting patiently on the counter. As Beckett slipped the mug underneath the running water from the sink, Castle laid out a warm, fuzzy blanket on the couch, ready for Beckett to wrap her shivering body in.

As Beckett slipped the two pills down her throat, a sneeze trickled itself up her nose, willing to escape. Though she tried her best to stop it, the sneeze emerged from her nose and, wincing, Kate grabbed a tissue from a holder on the island table. Shoving the tissue box under her arm, Beckett slumped towards the couch, collapsing onto it as if all her strength was drained. "Ugh," she groaned, curling up into a ball.

Castle instantly arrived by his fiancee's side, tucking the blanket around her body and gracing her with his presence. Before uttering a single word of thanks -not that she wanted to-, Beckett lurched into a couching fit, the feeling of claws rapping against her throat now overpowering her.

"Can I get you anything," he asked quickly, sitting upon the arm rest on the leather couch.

But Beckett didn't utter a single word. Instead, she retreated further into her lazy position, suffering through her sore throat and pounding headache, while closing her eyes against the unnerving discomfort. "Just-..." she began to murmur, nodding off as the leather couch and blanket lulled her to sleep. "Some cough drops and hot tea," Castle got up from the couch and hesitantly left his fiancee's side, searching through the orderly cabinets for the much needed medicine. "Wake me up when you-..." Beckett began to add.

Just as she was about to finish her sentence, Kate drifted off into a restless sleep, her breath staggered, her body covered in goosebumps. Castle looked over at the detective, looking peaceful in her pained state and gave a sigh of relief. Nights without rest, working until the wee hours of the morning, and this horrific sickness were taking its toll on the weakened woman, causing her distress and dependability on others. "Oh, sure," Castle joked under his breath. "Like you'd wake up even if I asked you."

* * *

While Beckett was asleep, Castle took the time to shut the curtains from the peeking New York sunlight, its rays turning the sky a beautiful pink and orange color as the glorious day became night, and built a light fire in the fireplace, crackling lowly against the stone and wood.

The warmth spreading from the fireplace was enough to surround Beckett in a tight bubble, protecting her from the world in front of her, protecting her from the harsh agitations that trigger her cold into a more violent state. More than once did Beckett's brown eyes flutter open, disrupted from her sleep by a dog-bark cough that made Castle squeeze his eyes shut in disturbance; more than once did Beckett's brown eyes flutter open from an unmanageable sneeze; more than once did Beckett's brown eyes flutter open due to her aching skull that the medicine previously taken did nothing to help.

From some time, Castle watched his lover sleep, spying her from where he sat with a notebook and pen propped up in one hand, ideas for Nikki Heat flooding into his brain. The writer had yet to notice some of the odd quirks that Beckett possessed, like her nose crinkling every few minutes, while her hand draped itself across the back of her head and eventually made its way to hang off the leather, had yet to notice how angelic she looked even battling a cold.

Barely noticing the rasps coming from behind the apartment door, Castle's eyes scanned Beckett's sleeping body before walking towards the wooden door. In the reflection, he caught sight of his ruggedly appearance, slicked his hair back, and quietly turned the handle.

"Hey, bro." Esposito chimed, giving Castle a signature smile.

Ryan, standing next to Esposito, hit the back of his palm against his partner's chest and turned to Castle, "Gates let us leave early," From his shocked expression, Castle gave Ryan a curious stare, knowing that the captain of the Precinct would only let her employees and best detectives out of work in an emergency. "Sir knew how worried we were for Beckett, so we ran out of the building as soon as she finished her drowning lecture." Ryan informed, reading Castle's story-filled mind.

With a defeated sigh, Castle pouted, "You didn't let me make up my rendition of why Gates would shoo you away so easily," Esposito rolled his eyes, bringing his eyes over Castle's shoulder to watch for Beckett, instantly feeling a great burden, one that had been weighing down on his heart, lift.

"All right," Ryan gave in with a small smirk. "What'd you think?"

Castle devilishly rubbed his hands together, a story forming in his head. "Well," he started to say, pausing for great emphasis. From both of Ryan and Eposito's looks of pure annoyance, a look that Castle had so often seen from his partners during a murder investigation, the writer sped up his process and taunted, "I think Gates just wanted you out of the Precinct because an attack mob of CIA officers were going to show up while you were still in the building, bearing laser beam guns and high-tech cameras that marked the path of everywhere they walked," In his own fantasy, Castle snapped back to reality and looked back at Esposito and Ryan, both in awe. "Cool, right?"

Esposito chuckled and pushed his way into the apartment, a combination of orderly chaos and a manly vibe with Kate's personal flare. "You never cease to amaze me, Castle."

Ryan trailed in after Esposito, hanging his coat on the rack by the door. Castle, meanwhile, shut the wooden door and locked it, reminding himself to check through the peep hole the next time someone pried on his apartment. Knowing that his mother was God-knows-where with God-knows-who, he ruled out the possibility of her coming home unexpected, only leaving Alexis and Pi and Lainie as a possible contender.

"She's knocked out cold," Ryan observed, bending over Beckett's limp body. Placing his pale palm against his boss's forehead, the detective immediately recoiled back and muttered, "And, she's on fire."

From within the dwells of the refrigerator, Esposito questioned, "Did you give her any medicine?" while reaching for the last can of beer in the back shelving. Using a bottle cap opener, the man leaned against the granite counter top, watching the writer as he longingly and worriedly gave Beckett's rising chest all his attention.

Castle nodded silently towards Esposito. "Actually, Beckett got it herself," From the couch, the woman groaned and rolled over on the leather, burying her head inside a pillow as another series of coughs and sneezes ruptured out of her mouth and nose. "You know her- always so stubbornly independent."

"You're telling me," Ryan mused from the living room, falling back into an armchair across the way from the couch. Looking content in the chair, the detective sat up straight and captured his blue-eyed gaze back on his boss. "You learn from an early point that Beckett can take care of herself."

"True that," Esposito agreed, walking back towards the couch and perching himself on the end of Beckett's long legs, still dubbed in her work clothes. As if feeling the heat spreading from her body, the detective suddenly felt his face brighten at an idea, one that would lessen the incomprehensible and sickening heat. "Castle, get me a face cloth and a bowl of water." Esposito ordered.

Without another word, Castle scurried off into the bathroom, taking a blue towel from the basket and running it under the water, globing on to what his partner was thinking. Returning back to the living room and kitchen, the writer opened a drawer under the island counter, shifting through stacks of pots and pans washed and sparkling clean. Once finding a medium sized steel bowl, Castle place it under the kitchen sink and filled it up.

Esposito greedily took the bowl and cloth into his hands, balancing it on his knees as he scooted closer to Beckett. Dipping the already wet face cloth in the cold water, the detective ringed it out and placed it upon Kate's forehead, watching as she flinched with the new and foreign contact, though her eyes remained close. "Cold compress," Esposito boasted, patting it against her skin, proud of his handy work.

"We should probably change the water every half and hour," Ryan mused from his spot on the chair, grabbing the television remote with his free hand. "You know, to make sure the water is sterile and remaining at a cold temperature." Clicking on the flat screen electronic, the detective lowered the volume in caution for his sleeping boss, biting his lip that the sudden blare in the otherwise quiet room would disturb her.

Castle laughed, giving Ryan a pat on his shoulder. "Thank you, Dr. Ryan," he joked, winking towards Esposito. "Do you prescribe anything else?" Holding back his laughter, Esposito made a note to act serious and intrigued with thought, pretending as if his partner was indeed a doctor.

Opening his mouth to speak, Ryan was cut off by the snap of a familiar voice from the couch. "Can you guys shut the hell up," Beckett grumbled, rolling her eyes, pressing a pillow on top of her face. "Just for once, _please?_" she added in a mere pleading fashion.

The three men whipped their heads around to spot Beckett sitting up from her position on the couch, her eye makeup blurred from the hour of sleep she had so desired, her work clothes wrinkled, and her hair framing her pale face effortlessly. Moving too fast for her delirious body to handle, Beckett stood up only to grip Castle's upper arm seconds after standing ground, the detective's brown eyes shutting tightly from the rush of dizziness.

"Damn," Beckett muttered. "This frickin' _sucks_."

Allowing the moment of distraction to take control of his fiancee, Castle took her hand in his and slowly led her towards their opened bedroom, the curtains drawn just like the living room, the bed folded down just as it was left this morning, and clothes thrown everywhere they just so desired. The bedroom looked to be stuck in time, frozen, undergoing no amount of change for what seemed like years, though it had only been hours since the morning- when things were in use.

"I'll get you some more Tylenol," Castle decided, watching as Beckett trudged off into the bathroom with pajamas bunched up into her arms, no other words escaping her mouth, suffering her sickness without the slightest show of emotion that one could detect.

Taking her time in the bathroom, throwing on one of Castle's tee-shirts and a pair of black flannel pajama pants, Beckett whipped off her makeup -leaving on her red lip gloss, of course- and revealed her second skin, paler with unusual veins appearing as if magic. The woman was so tired, so utterly useless, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed, sleeping for the rest of eternity. But, Beckett was hungry, loosing valuable immune strength, and her insistent cough making her kick into a painful coughing fit, prevented her from returning to sleep. Depressed, Beckett threw brushed her hair back into a ponytail, the layers of her brown hair flowing behind her.

Coughing into her elbow, Beckett had yet to notice Ryan, as he carried in his left hand like a waiter, a tray of medicine and lunch into her bedroom. With his right hand, Ryan tugged off his tie, throwing it to the floor as he set the tray on the unmade bed. "Here you go," Ryan announced with a guilty smile. "Tylenol, water, a turkey and cheese sandwich -no mayo- and cough drops. Courtesy of Castle, Esposito, and yours truly,"

"I must have been taken a long time getting changed," Beckett breathed, climbing into her yearning bed and motioning for Ryan to bring her the try of helpful remedies.

"Women always do,"

"Sexist,"

"It's not sexist! It's true,"

"Not always,"

"Jenny takes hours to get dressed, and it's evident that you do, too,"

"I do not,"

"I beg to differ,"

"Oh, really,"

"Yeah,"

"Well, I don't take _hours_ to get dressed, Ryan,"

"Defensive, I see,"

"_You're_ making me become defensive,"

"No,"

"Yes,"

"No,"

"Yes,"

"No,"

"Yes,"

"_No_,"

"_Yes_,"

"Now, who's acting like the five year old," Castle interrupted, leaning against the entry way into the bedroom, mirroring the cool and collected vibe that Beckett usually had. Turning tables, one might say, people acting differently from their normal self. Like the five year old that Castle sometimes was, Beckett pouted and complained in a whining tone, while Castle seemed calm, without a single doubt of hesitation in his mind, becoming all too much like Beckett for the moment.

Beckett rolled her eyes and reached for the medicine, swallowing it quickly. "Blame Ryan," Kate answered, pointing towards her partner with an outstretched finger, ratting him out like the inevitable way a brother and sister would, when wanting to get away with something.

Ryan's mouth dropped open and he gave Beckett a steely gaze. "After everything we've been through," he dramatically exclaimed, storming out of the bedroom, while stifling his laughter. Closing the door behind him, Ryan disappeared into the kitchen, scoping out the loft to find Esposito.

Sitting next to Kate on the bed, Castle nudged the sandwich towards his sick lover, urging her to eat. "You need your strength, and besides, if you don't eat it- Esposito will. You know him, he'll eat anything and everything."

"He's always been like that," Beckett answered, hurriedly eating it, as if it would dissolve into thin air in the next second. Stomach rumbling, the sick woman wished with all her might another sandwich was cooking up inside the kitchen, the salty taste of the turkey causing her throat to beg for more fluids. "You mind getting me some more water, Castle?" Kate asked, turning away to repeatedly sneeze many times in a row.

Standing up like a bolt of lightning, Castle nodded and took the mug Beckett had been using in his hand. "I'll be right back, fair maiden," he answered with a genuine smile. Gone in a flash, Castle entered the kitchen, leaving a tired detective back in the bedroom. Though she had promised herself she would drift off to sleep again, the constant tugging of a cough wafting through her throat, but Beckett felt her eyes flutter close and her body move into a surrounded position, the covers resting on her body.

Returning with Esposito to deliver the mug of water and another sandwich, Castle held out his arm in front of his partner to stop him from entering the bedroom. Inside the room, Beckett shifted in her light sleep and inched under the sheets even more, the rest of her body absorbed in the warm flannel material of the bed linens.

"She's asleep," Castle whispered, standing by the door leading inside the bedroom.

Esposito smiled, the angelic aura of Beckett latching on to him, making him feel protective towards her. "I guess so," he confined, gripping the mug with his hands. In a trance, Esposito had yet to notice his hands lift the mug to his lips, taking a sip of the cold water slowly.

Castle, his eyebrows raising to his hairline, looked back and forth between Esposito and the germ infested mug, now met with another mouth. "Uh, Espo," Castle tapped his partner on the shoulder. "Isn't that Beckett's Sicky Cup?"


End file.
